The Man with a Shadow

“There! Do you feel as if you are going to fall down dead, old man, and do you wonder which of these old niches I shall put you in?”

“Tchah! don’t talk stuff, doctor,” said the old fellow, putting his hand to his throat; “you wouldn’t do such a thing. That’s good! That’s prime stuff. I never tasted nothing like that afore. It warms you like, and makes you feel ready to do anything. Skeared! Who’s skeared? Tchah! What is there to mind? I’m ready, doctor. I’ll help you. What shall I do next?”

“Sit down on that ledge for a bit till I want you.”

“Ay, to be sure,” chuckled the old sexton, as he seated himself on a low projection at the far end of the vault. “That’s prime stuff. I could drink another drop of that, doctor. But you go on. Nobody can’t see from outside, for I’ve put lights in here before now, and shut the doors of a night, and tried it. There isn’t a crack to show; so you go on.”

The doctor watched the weird-looking old man, as he settled himself comfortably, with his back in the corner, and went on muttering and chuckling.

“Brandy’s nothing to it,” he went on – “tasted many a good drop in my time. Eh? What say, doctor?”

“You shall have some more another time.”

“Can’t see outside. Sheared? Tchah! It wouldn’t frighten a child.”

The doctor approached him, but the old man took no notice, and went on muttering:

“He! he! he! I could tell you something. I will some day. Frighten a child. Old man? Tchah! Mean to live – long – Ah!”

The last ejaculation was drawn out into a long sigh, followed by a heavy, regular breathing.

North placed his fingers in the sexton’s neckcloth to make sure that there was no danger of strangulation, and then turned away.

“Good for four or five hours, Master Moredock,” he said; and then, with his face lighting up strangely – “in the service of science – ambition – yes, and for the sake of love. Shall I succeed?”

He paused for a few minutes, bending over the body on the table.

“It seems very horrible, but it is only the dread of a man about to venture into the unknown. The first doctor who performed a serious operation must have felt as I do now, and – What’s that?”

He started upright, throwing his head back, and shaking it quickly, as if he had suffered from a sudden vertigo.

“Pooh! nothing; a little excitement. Now for my great discovery, for I must – I will succeed.”

He stooped down quickly, and took a bottle and a case of instruments from his black bag, when once more the curious sensation came over him, and he shook his head again.

“The air is close and stifling,” he said, as he recovered himself. “I could have fancied that something brushed by my face.”

Then, bending over the prostrate figure he rapidly laid bare again, four hours quickly passed away in the gloomy vault, where the yellowish rays of the shaded lamp shone directly down upon his busy fingers, and the stony face of him who lay motionless in his deep sleep.

Four hours, and then he laid his hand upon the old sexton, who started up wildly, and extended his claw-like hands, as if about to seize him by the throat.

Volume Two – Chapter Six.

The Doctor is Nervous

“It’s all very well, Master North, for you to come here bullying me about my health, and ordering me to go fishing, and half ruin myself with cigars,” said the curate; “but I feel disposed to retort, ‘Physician, heal thyself.’ Why, you’re as white as so much dough.”

“Nonsense!” cried the doctor hastily.

“Prisoner denies the impeachment,” said Salis. “First witness – Mary Salis – what do you say?”

Mary smiled at North, as she said quietly:

“I think Doctor North looks worn and pale.”

“There, you hear,” cried Salis triumphantly.

“I’m not convinced,” said North. “I shall call a witness on my side. Leo, will you speak for me?”

“Certainly I will,” said Leo quietly, as she looked up from her inevitable book. “Do I look pale and worn out?” Leo shook her head.

“No,” she said quietly. “I think you look very well. Only, perhaps, a little more earnest than of old.”

“Thank you – thank you,” cried the doctor eagerly.

“Why, he looks bad,” said Salis; “and it’s a horrible piece of imposture for him to come here bullying me and wanting to give me abominable decoctions, besides leading me into idleness and debauchery, when all the time he cannot keep himself right.”

“Nonsense!” cried the doctor pettishly. “I never was better: never more busy.”

“The fellow’s a humbug,” said Salis, bringing his hand down on the table with a rap. “I’ll tell you what’s the matter.”

North turned upon him a look so full of mingled entreaty and annoyance that he checked himself.

“No,” he said, laughing, “I am as bad as Horace North. I can’t tell you what’s the matter unless it is that he is working too hard over his craze.”

North looked at him keenly, and his pallor increased.

“Well, I must be off up to the church. I want to see my friend, Moredock.”

“To see Moredock?” said the doctor, with a quick, uneasy look at the speaker.

“Yes. I’m not satisfied with the old man’s proceedings.”

“What has he been doing?” said the doctor, who fidgeted in his seat, and seemed anything but himself.

“Oh, I’m going to make no special charges against him,” said the curate. “Coming my way?”

“N-no, yes,” said North, rising, and going to Mary’s couch to shake hands, her eyes looking up into his with a calm, patient smile full of resignation and desire for his happiness, which he could not read.

He turned then to Leo, who was reading, and evidently deeply engrossed in her book.

“Going?” she said, letting it fall, and looking up with a placid smile. “What lovely weather, is it not?”

North said it was delightful, as he bent impressively over the extended hand, and gazed with something of a lover’s rapture in the beautiful eyes that looked up into his; but there was no returning pressure of the hand; the look was merely pleasant and friendly, and, worn out with anxiety, sleeplessness, and watching, he could not help feeling a thirst for something more, if it were merely sympathy, instead of those calmly bland smiles and gently tolerant reception of his advances.

“Why, Horace, old man, I did not hurt you with my banter?” said Salis, as they walked up towards the church.

“Hurt me? No. I’m a little upset; that’s all. Salis, old fellow, I’m not quite happy.”